


No “End” in Slushies

by foldedwish



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Gen, Slushies, angry middle schooler, edgy trench coat kid, how else would i tag this lmfao, idk how to format, im sorry, jd x slushies, posted on heathers amino, slushie origin story, we stan 7/11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldedwish/pseuds/foldedwish
Summary: Middle school sucks, and J.D. knows this all too well. Good thing he found a coping method: slushies.
Kudos: 6





	No “End” in Slushies

**Author's Note:**

> i’m sorry, but it had to be done. slushie lives matter.
> 
> originally finished: December 14th, 2018

Detention again, J.D. thought as he glanced around the classroom. It was pretty much empty except for the teacher who was grading papers. This was the 4th time he got detention in 7th grade. He drummed his hands on the desk and clicked his tongue out of boredom.

“Quiet!” the teacher whisper-yelled. He reluctantly stopped. Why she was whispering, he had no idea. They were the only two in the classroom. J.D. stared at the clock that seemed to be dragging past each number with the speed of a snail glued to the ground. True story, though. J.D. laughed to himself for suddenly remembering that part of his childhood.

Having nothing better to do, he looked at his bloody fists, the reason he was yet again in detention, and smirked. Those kids honestly deserved it though, he thought. They were constantly poking him and taking his mechanical pencils in math class, and only God knows what happens when people stole his black mechanical pencils.

He turned his head to the clock again. Only 2 minutes had passed. He sighed and put his head down. Middle school really does suck ass. No regrets about beating up those annoying douchebags, though.

J.D. grabbed his backpack and ran as soon as the teacher told him he was free to go.

“No running in the halls!” the teacher shouted. Like he gave a shit.

He heard a car honk at the back door entrance and rolled his eyes as he saw his dad motion for him to get in.

“Hey dad, who knew I was in detention for the 4th time?” his dad asked with his sunglasses over his eyes. His stupid, ugly-ass, motherfu--

“Hey son, how do you like my awesome new shades? I got them from the local landfill,” J.D. said back, bitterly.

His dad laughed and took off his sunglasses. “Now son, these bad boys were cool back in my day.” He clicked his tongue. J.D. bit back a sarcastic reply. “Roll your eyes all you want, you might find a brain back there.” His dad put his “cool shades” back over his eyes and drove out of the school parking lot. J.D. was silently fuming.

His dad drove them to 7/11 again. J.D. hated him the first time he did this, wanting nothing but to go home, but he eventually grew to love the convenience store.

He was just about to slam the car door when his dad said, “Buy some snacks or something and don’t cause trouble, without me of course, hah!” J.D. shut the door harder than usual. How on earth his mom fell in love with his dad was still a huge mystery.

J.D. took a deep inhale as he stepped into the 7/11. His love for this place almost rivaled his love for God. He tapped his toes on the linoleum floors and coasted down the aisles. He made a sudden stop at the strange machine near the back of the store with red and blue….stuff spinning inside. Well this was definitely new.

J.D. waved to catch the attention of the cashier. “Hey, mister! What’s this thing?” He pointed to the machine.

“You’ve never seen this thing before?” the cashier asked with surprise. J.D. shook his head. “We got it last week,” the guy continued. “It gives you this awesome drink called a Slushie.” He grabbed a cup and poured some of the blue flavor into it. J.D. could only stare in amazement. The cashier gave the drink to him and chuckled at his astonishment.

“Oh just a warning: Slushies are known to give brain freezes,” the guy said before walking away.

“A brain--what?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. 7th grade trench coat kids like you could really use one,” he said without turning around.

J.D. looked down at his trench coat. What was that supposed to mean? Nevermind that, he had in his hand a drink sent from Heaven. With giddy excitement, he took a big gulp. He swore he could see the cashier snickering behind the cash register. Then, as if a thousand needles pierced his skull, a sharp pain shot through his head.

“Ow!” he shrieked, almost dropping his Slushie. He grabbed onto the counter for support. The pain lasted for a couple more seconds and when it stopped, J.D. eyed his drink suspiciously. “What the fu--ffffrick was that?” he asked, bewilderment in his eyes.

“That, my dude, was a brain freeze,” the cashier said proudly.

J.D. grimaced. “That was…” What word was he looking for? It felt bad, yes, but it also felt...good? Was that even possible? “That was awwwesome!” he said finally. He took another huge gulp and savored the sting again. Then he took another. And another. Each time, he became filled with a strange feeling that replaced the empty void in his heart left by his late mother. What was that feeling called again? Joy? No, no way, right? Unless…

J.D. had another sip. Yes, indeed, he was feeling joy. He sensed another sting, but this time it was in his eyes, and he began to tear up. He hadn’t felt joy in such a long time. It was as if he had found the missing piece to his jigsaw heart.

“Mom, I’m finally at peace,” J.D. said, looking up at the ceiling. He lifted his slushie up even though it was probably stupid to think she could see it. “Y-you always said you wanted me to be happy, and…” He was sobbing now, but he tried to pull himself together. “And I think I’m happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t be happy enough when you were a-alive.” A few tears dropped on the linoleum floor. “But I hope you can see now that I’m feeling joy.”

An ear-splitting honk cut through J.D.’s bliss and vaporized his thoughts into thin air. He took a great sigh that made his shoulders shudder, and he bought some snacks, making sure to keep his blue slushie close to his heart. 

Before he left the 7/11, he kissed his cup and whispered, “I love you.” Then J.D. bid farewell to the cashier, and just for that moment, he bid farewell to his inner turmoil. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to get rid of his thoughts completely, but slushies would help him get through 7th grade. Would high school be worse? “But even so, we’ll do this together,” he mumbled to his drink. 

J.D. got into the car. The tires screeched as he and his dad drove away.

Don’t open a vein.


End file.
